


trying hard

by ghostmonday



Category: Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Gen, Internal Conflict, Self Confidence, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostmonday/pseuds/ghostmonday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's like that car, he loves the car, he hates his wife."</p><p>Well, Cameron doesn't want to end up like his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying hard

**Author's Note:**

> I love Cameron Frye. And then I wrote Ferris Bueller fanfiction. Have I mentioned everything I write is unbeta'd sorry

"It's like that car, he loves the car, he hates his wife."

 

\--

 

He has a bulleted list in his head of reactions his father may have. Most end in screaming. When his eyes first hit the place where there is no car, when he stomps over to the window and sees the place where there is a car, hours later after a lot of heavy silence, maybe so his wife will be there to hear him rage. Misplaced aggression is his style. Especially after weeks of the quiet and false functionality.

And there's that prolonged pang in Cameron's chest like he's dying, and a string of bad thoughts in his head, because he can't hope for that to ever go away, really, but it's punctuated by _fuck you fuck you fuck this entire planet._ It's forced could-care-lessness but it's there, he feels it in his attitude, he's walking different. Not effortlessly confident like Ferris or intimidating like Rooney (god forbid), just could-care-less because he's put up with too much. Maybe this is a chip on his shoulder gained and not cleared. Which he worries about. But then, _fuck you fuck you fuck this entire planet._

 

\--

 

Cameron thinks about Ferris's could-care-lessness sitting in front of the pool and staring in. He does this a lot. Ferris doesn't have forced could-care-lessness. He's like that because he has no reason not to be. And the things he cares about, he gets.

Cameron thinks about ten years from now and where this new walk will walk him to. He doesn't know. He's never really cared about anything that made him happy. Now he cares about not caring.

 

\--

 

When his father sees the place the car is not, Cameron gets a look, like the look he got when he took out the mailbox early in his driving career, only elevated by ten levels of emotion. Cameron doesn't flinch but he does stiffen. 

When his father sees the place the car is, though.

Cameron has never, never, never seen Mr. Frye shed a tear.

He wonders what else the man misplaces.

 

\--

 

He frenzies that night, wondering when his father will stir himself out of the silence he ended up in and stomped out of the garage with, bullet number three. When the screaming will start. Because Cameron can't stand up to just wet eyes and a turned back. And he needs to stand before he can walk.

And he frenzies about could-care-lessness and about cars and objects and hopes that's not what he ends up with.


End file.
